Warpath

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Authors: Randolph Lalonde

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Space Opera

BOOK: Warpath
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The
Spinward Fringe Series

Spinward
Fringe Broadcast 0: Origins

Spinward
Fringe Broadcast 1 and 2: Resurrection and Awakening

Spinward
Fringe Broadcast 3: Triton

Spinward
Fringe Broadcast 4: Frontline

Spinward
Fringe Broadcast 5: Fracture

Spinward
Fringe Broadcast 6: Fragments

The
Expendable Few: A Spinward Fringe Novel

Spinward
Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework

Spinward
Fringe Broadcast 8: Renegades

Spinward
Fringe Broadcast 9: Warpath

Spinward
Fringe Broadcast 10: Coming Soon

OTHER
BOOKS

By
Randolph Lalonde

Brightwill

Dark
Arts

For
more information please visit:

www.RandolphLalonde.com

Spinward Fringe Broadcast 9

Warpath

Randolph
Lalonde

Copyright © 2015 by Randolph
Lalonde

Spinward
Fringe is a Registered Trademark of Randolph Lalonde

All
rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in
a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission
of the publisher, Randolph Lalonde.

This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either
are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Foreground
models created by Herminio Nieves –
hns3d.com

Composition,
lighting and rendering by Randolph Lalonde

Ebook
formatting by
Jesse Gordon

Print
ISBN: 978-0-9937398-8-0

EBook
ISBN: 978-0-9937398-7-3

Table of Contents

Prologue
Freeground
Alpha

Some of the best
strategies require sacrifice. Holographic images were not Admiral
Jessica Rice’s preferred method of watching anything, but there was
something about watching news about Ayan Anderson as a full sized
hologram that made her feel better overall. She admitted her desire
to make amends and accept Ayan as her daughter to no one. When the
burden of command lessened, and she had time alone, the young woman
was always in the daydream future the Admiral tried to avoid
indulging in.

“-through this
conspiracy of ownership and the denial of rulership, Commander, or
shall we call her ‘Queen’ Ayan Anderson has barely represented
her settlements to the rest of the Rega Gain system,” said the
announcer over the holographic playback. “This news agency wasn’t
allowed access to their monitoring systems, so all our information is
from testimony, our news gathering drones, and stories from the
Stellarnet. This reporter is fairly confident in saying that, while
it seems like the Queen of Haven Shore turns a cold shoulder towards
the people outside her safe haven, those who have been fortunate
enough to make it through her recruiting process are happy with their
placements. They are given accommodations in trade for labour that
are becoming increasingly rare as the fringes of human territories
falls to the Order of Eden, corporate rule or lawless chaos. It’s
old socialism, or a new trade of freedom for safety, labour for a cot
under a shield. Or, is it?”

Admiral Rice watched as
holographic footage of Ayan arriving with a recruitment ship amidst a
razed landscape. Small downed ships, pools of toxic materials and
broken earth surrounded her and several heavily armed soldiers as
they ushered people who looked no better than their surroundings into
combat shuttles. Footage of what looked like a military complex
followed, most likely taken from a great distance by one of the news
drones the announcer mentioned. She immediately recognized it as a
prefabricated Order of Eden base that Ayan’s people had taken.

Several still images of
Ayan and members of her council followed as the announcer continued.
“With the history of selective humanitarianism Ayan has become
somewhat well known for, I can’t help but wonder why her Haven
Shore council seems to have turned against her, along with Haven
Shore’s original populace. Information recently obtained by this
reporter has revealed that fewer than forty one percent of her voting
population supported her continuing activities on the Council, and
she has not participated directly in proceedings for over a month.
Even though she is the sole owner of nearly all of Haven Shore’s
assets, and has strong ties to the new Triton Fleet, I cannot help
but wonder how much of the peace Haven Shore seems to enjoy is just
an illusion created by her and the British Alliance.” Admiral Rice
couldn’t help but scowl at the supposition. “How about you go get
recruited and find out for yourself,” she said in response to the
story, dismissing the hologram with a flick of her wrist.

“I’m sorry,
Admiral, it was the best recent news story I could find in the
Sunspire’s database,” said the gentle voice of Gus, her personal
artificial intelligence.

“Don’t give it a
second thought,” she replied. It was time for her to walk the ship,
and she wouldn’t do it without looking like a crewmember. Admiral
Rice took her sidearm, a stout, powerful plasma pistol, from her side
table drawer and slipped it into the holster on her upper thigh.
“Next time I’ll have you review it for me though, then you can
relay the facts.”

“Along with the best
images of your daughter,” Gus said into her sub-dermal earpiece.

There was no arguing
with him, after a year of using Gus, he’d learned everything there
was to know about her, twice. The first time he’d become highly
competent at predicting her moods and needs, he had to delete himself
as a failsafe when political enemies managed to hack into his
database. They got nothing, but she would make them pay for the
setback as soon as she found out who was responsible, because Gus had
to start learning all over again.

“How is Freeground
Alpha doing?” Admiral Rice asked.

“The wormhole
generator of Freeground’s primary segment is almost finished
charging, and all remaining residents have evacuated to the section
of the station that will be transported through it,” Gus replied as
he provided an image of the thick inner ring of Freeground. The
lights from thousands of transparent metal windows made it look
alive, well inhabited compared to the rest of the station. Most of
the rings surrounding Freeground Station were completely dark,
abandoned as all but the most steadfast citizens left for other parts
of the galaxy.

“Perhaps this is the
wrong image,” Gus said, changing the view so it focused on the
lighted main ring.

“It’s all right for
me to grieve, Gus,” Admiral Rice said. “This is the home I came
to love, and it’s near the end of its decline. That’s some
consolation.”

“Ah, Freeground’s
population increased to two hundred ninety eight thousand and three
last night, Admiral. Two children were born, both boys.”

“Thank you for the
silver lining.” She made sure her uniform was in good order, a
thick armoured red and black vacsuit, before leaving her sparsely
decorated quarters. The Ironside was a fine ship, one of the last
produced by Freeground Shipyards. It was a direct descendant of the
improved Sunspire design, and had already seen nineteen engagements
under the command of her captain, Harold Behr, a man only a few years
her junior, but somehow he looked twenty years older. It was his
twelfth ship, and he’d only lost one in combat.

She walked the well
polished metal halls from her quarters to the port gunnery section,
then to engineering. Only two crewmembers saluted out of the hundred
or so she passed. They were new, unaware that she’d put out a
standing order that crewmembers were to disregard the tradition of
saluting the Admiral if they were working unless they were addressed.

“Admiral, we have an
emergency,” Gus announced in her subdermal communicator. The left
side of Admiral Rice’s vision was filled with an overlay of
scrolling sensor data from the Ironside. She was receiving it at
exactly the same time as the bridge, and recognized what was
happening immediately.

“Channel open to the
bridge,” Gus informed her.

“Captain,” was all
she had to say.

“I know, this is the
largest incursion yet,” Captian Behr replied, “Battle Group One
is already responding with energized flak bursts, we’re moving into
position.”

It had become standard
operating procedure over the last four months, since the Isek began
their attacks. Opportunists to the core, a large faction of their
society recognized that, with the Order of Eden on one side, and no
major allies on the other, Freeground was truly alone again in a vast
empty span of space. The Isek began jamming Freeground’s
communications, then they began bombarding missions. They realized
after losing an outer ring and nearly a quarter million people in one
of the first attacks, that energized flak and energy shielding was
their only defence. The outer patrols were only so effective, the
fleet they had was not large enough to maintain their borders.

Admiral Rice reviewed a
segment of the sensor data and shook her head, walking into a lift at
the same time. The readings indicated that the Isek were sending
clusters of missiles in from almost all directions. “Battle Groups
Two and three are to fall back to the departure point, reinforce the
energy shielding surrounding Freeground Alpha. The less energy that
main ring has to spend on shielding, the faster the main wormhole
generator will charge. This attack may be our indication that the
Isek has discovered our plan. In short, we are leaving as soon as
conditions will allow, Captain, and not without the core of our
station.”

“Aye,” Captain Behr
replied.

Admiral Rice signalled
the Sunspire, the lead ship for Battlegroup One to disband and begin
their faster than light journey towards the Rega Gain system and
Haven Shore immediately.

When Admiral Rice
arrived on the bridge, he was finishing relaying the orders to his
staff, who were calmly conducting themselves. She took the seat
beside him and immediately began monitoring the countermeasures. The
gleaming hull of the Ironside was as yet untouched by the long-range
attacks as her many gun emplacements fired a stream of counterpunch
rounds. They were made specifically to halt and obliterate incoming
projectiles head-to-head, and the computer was managing their firing
patterns so well that they were able to contribute to the defence of
Freeground Alpha.

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